


Classified

by AchillesMonkey



Series: It's Classified - a Non-Sexual Age Play series [1]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Age Play, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - BDSM, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Caretaking, Gen, Littles Are Known, Non-Sexual Age Play, Therapy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-27
Updated: 2017-02-27
Packaged: 2018-09-27 08:01:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,914
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9984266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AchillesMonkey/pseuds/AchillesMonkey
Summary: In a universe where people are given a specific classification (Dominant, Submissive, Caregiver, Little, Owner, Pet, or Neutral) after their 25th birthday, Leo Fitz is given the classification of Little and must come to terms with how his life is going to change. This fic contains non-sexual age play.





	1. Classification

**Author's Note:**

> I've always been intrigued by the fics where Caregivers and Littles are just a known thing in a universe, so I decided to try writing one of my own.

**Saturday, September 29 th, 2012**

**Fitz and Simmons’ Apartment**

 

Dr. Leopold Fitz

625 Jackson Street

Apt. 14

Pleasant Hill, NY 10570

 

Fitz stared at the crisp white envelope in his hands as he read his own name and address. He looked at the return address in the top left corner:

 

Bureau of Classifications

26 Federal Plaza

New York, NY 10278

 

He took a breath. This was it: his official classification. He looked at the envelope a bit longer and then set it down on the table. He’d open it eventually, but he didn’t need to open it right away, right? He had a month to officially register after receiving his classification after all. He already knew what it would say, anyway. He was asexual; he had definite daddy issues thanks to his biological father’s verbal abuse and abandonment. He didn’t really need to read the official letter telling him he was classified as a Little.

He heard his front door being unlocked and his best friend and roommate, Jemma Simmons, entered an excited expression on her face. “Did they come?” she asked, setting down the bags of groceries she was holding. “Our classification letters? I saw the mail truck down the street.”

Fitz nodded and pointed to her envelope sitting with the rest of the mail before picking up his again. With how excited Jemma was about it, there was no way he would get away with not opening his.

“Oh, aren’t you excited, Fitz?” Jemma asked, picking up her letter. “They say you should be able to tell your own classification before the official test, but I’ve never been able to figure mine out. Isn’t that strange? Maybe that means I’m Neutral?”

Fitz shrugged. “You’re about to find out for sure,” he said, turning his envelope over and sliding his finger underneath the flap, ripping it open. He pulled out the official letter and began to read.

 

_September 26 th, 2012_

_Bureau of Classifications_

_26 Federal Plaza_

_New York, NY 10278_

_Dr. Leopold Fitz,_

_After thorough testing by an official Classification Examiner, your results are as follows:_

_Dominant: 0%_

_Submissive: 10%_

_Caregiver: 5%_

**_Little: 85%_ **

_Owner: 0%_

_Pet: 0%_

_Due to this result, your official classification is that of **Little**. If you wish to appeal this result and receive another examination with a second Examiner, you must do so within two weeks of the date of this letter. If you choose to accept your classification as stated, you must register your official classification with the Bureau of Classifications within one month of the date of this letter. If you have any questions, you may contact your local classification office._

_Sincerely,_

_Maria Hill_

_Chief Classifications Examiner_

_Bureau of Classifications_

 

Fitz chewed on his thumbnail as he read the results. It was as he’d expected. He was a Little. He looked over at Jemma, curious to see what she’d been classified as. The woman was pale and staring at her letter in disbelief.

“Jemma?” Fitz asked, putting his letter down and reaching for hers. He quickly scanned her results.

 

**_Dominant: 83%_ **

_Submissive: 0%_

_Caregiver: 0%_

_Little: 0%_

_Owner: 17%_

_Pet: 0%_

 

He put her letter on the table next to his and cautiously guided Jemma to the couch. “Are you okay?” he asked.

“Dominant? How can I be classified as Dominant?” she asked, her voice getting higher and more panicky as she continued speaking. “I’m the least Dominant person, right, Fitz? I love following the rules! It makes me feel nice! I thought if I wasn’t classified as Neutral, I might be Submissive, but Dominant? It has to be a mistake, right? They must have entered the Submissive percentage into the Dominant line by mistake.”

“So you’re going to appeal, then?” Fitz asked her.

“Yes, I think so,” Jemma said. She took a few deep breaths. “Oh, I’m so sorry, Fitz. I haven’t even asked about you!”

“S’okay,” he said. “I’m a Little, just like I thought.”

Jemma beamed at him. “Oh, Fitz, you’re going to be so adorable!”

Fitz turned red. “Shut up!”

Jemma stood up and went to get her phone from her purse. “I’d better call and schedule my appeal before the office closes.”

“I’m gonna go in my room for a bit,” Fitz told her. “I need to process.”

“Okay. Let me know if I can do anything to help you.”

Fitz went into his room and lay down on his bed, staring at his ceiling. After a few minutes, he pulled out his phone and dialed a familiar number. “Hey, Mum,” he said once she’d answered. “I got my classification today. Yeah, I’m a Little, just like we thought. I dunno how I feel yet. It’s weird, knowing it’s official. Yeah, I will, Mum. Love you too. Bye.” He hung up and went back to staring at his ceiling, not sure what to think.


	2. Therapy

**Wednesday, October 24 th, 2012**

**Dr. Andrew Garner’s Office**

 

Dr. Garner was a tall, handsome black man in his late 40s or early 50s, Fitz wasn’t really sure. He smiled at Fitz and held out his hand to shake. “Hi, there, I’m Dr. Garner. You must be Leopold Fitz.” Fitz nodded and shook the man’s hand.

Dr. Garner led him to a large office. On one side was a chair, which Dr. Garner sat in, and opposite him was a couch, which he told Fitz to sit on. There was a desk in the corner. Fitz looked at the other side of the room where there was a table, low to the ground with pillows to sit on, a bookshelf, and a couple boxes with toys.

“So, Leopold,” Dr. Garner began.

“Fitz,” he corrected automatically.

“Fitz,” the psychologist repeated. “What brings you here today?”

“Well, I officially registered as a Little last week, and I had my first visit from the social worker.” Fitz nervously rubbed the back of his neck where he knew an L was tattooed, officially marking him as a Little. “I’m having trouble getting into a Little Headspace, and she suggested I come see you.”

“Was your classification a surprise to you, Fitz, or had you always suspected?”

Fitz played with the hem of his shirt. “I kinda always knew, I guess,” he said. “My dad, he wasn’t the nicest man, and they say it’s more common to be classified as a Little if your first childhood isn’t the best. I’ve never been interested in sex, and Littles are always asexual.”

“What have you tried to do to get into a Little headspace?”

“Simmons bought me a pacifier, but I didn’t like it. I don’t think I’m _that_ Little.”

“Who is Simmons?”

“Jemma Simmons. She’s my best friend and my roommate. We’re partners at SHIELD Prosthetics. I’m an engineer, she’s a biochemist.”

“Has she been classified?”

Fitz nodded. “She’s a Dominant. She didn’t think she was, so she appealed, but she got the exact same result.”

“Have you gone to a playgroup yet?”

Fitz shook his head. “No, I think it would be too weird if I wasn’t in a Headspace.”

“Some other Littles I’ve worked with have found it easier to get into their Headspace when they’re around other Littles,” Dr. Garner told him. “But some prefer to get into their Headspace on their own, and either way is perfectly normal. Now, I’m going to try to get you into a Little Headspace. I want you to think back to your childhood. What did your family call you when you were a kid?”

_Stupid. Worthless._ Those had been his father’s names for him. “Mostly Leo,” Fitz answered. “Leopold when Mum was serious or I was in trouble.”

“So not Fitz,” Dr. Garner commented. Fitz shook his head. “May I call you Leo? It might help you get into your headspace.”

“Okay,” Fitz said, bringing his thumb up to his mouth to bite the nail.

“Now, Leo, I want you to tell me, what was your favorite thing as a child? It could be a toy, a book, a game, a movie…”

“Anything with monkeys,” Fitz said immediately. “I love monkeys. I really liked Lego too. I’d build all sorts of things.”

“I have some Legos,” Dr. Garner told him. “Maybe you’d like to build something?”

“Okay,” Fitz said.

“I’ll put some out on the table over there.” Dr. Garner indicated the low table on the other side of his office. “You can take your shoes off if you’d like, to be more comfortable.”

Fitz toed his sneakers off and watched as Dr. Garner brought a tub of Lego out from one of the toy boxes. He opened it and placed it on the table. Fitz went over and sat down on a blue pillow that was on the floor next to the table. It put him at just the right height to play with the Lego. He reached for the little pieces, glancing at Dr. Garner for permission as he did so.

“It’s okay,” Dr. Garner told him. “You can play with any toy you see. I’m going to work on some boring grown-up stuff over there,” he pointed to his desk. “Let me know if you need anything, okay, Leo?”

“Okay.”

Dr. Garner went to his desk and Fitz found the pieces he’d need to build a rocket. And once he’d built the rocket, he obviously needed to build a space station for the rocket to fly to. He even found an astronaut mini-figure to play with. He barely noticed when instrumental versions of children’s songs began to play.

Eventually Leo got bored of the Lego and went to explore the other toys. Nothing really caught his eye, so he moved on to look at the books on the bookshelf. He let out an excited gasp as he found a book of _Curious George_ stories and pulled it off the shelf and into his lap. He opened it and began studying the pictures, not even paying attention to the words.

“Leo?” he heard Dr. Garner say softly some time later. The music had stopped playing. He looked up and found that the man was kneeling next to him. “It’s almost time for you to leave, Leo. Can you put the book back on the shelf and the Legos back in the tub for me, please?”

“Yeah,” Leo said, closing the book and putting it back where he had found it. He grabbed handfuls of the Lego pieces and tossed them into the tub. When he was done, he looked to Dr. Garner for instructions on what to do next.

“Thank you, Leo, for cleaning up. You’re a good helper,” the man praised, and Leo smiled happily. “Come sit back on the couch for me, please.” Leo did so. “How are you feeling, Leo?” Dr. Garner asked.

Leo bit his lip as he thought. “Floaty,” he said. “Happy. I feel nice.”

“This is what Headspace feels like,” Dr. Garner told him. “What do you think?”

“I like it. I want to do it again.”

“Good,” Dr. Garner said, smiling. “That’s how you should feel. Now, do you think you can find your way out of Headspace?” Leo shrugged. “Start by putting your shoes back on,” the man instructed. Leo did so. “Good. Tell me more about your job, Fitz. What do you do?”

“I’m an engineer,” Leo said. “I help construct prosthetic limbs. I make them easier to use, capable of doing everything a regular limb can do and then some.”

“Fascinating,” Dr. Garner said. “You work with your roommate, right?”

Fitz nodded. “She’s a biochemist. She helps with making the prosthetics life-like. She developed a synthetic skin that feels like real skin.”

“That’s very impressive.”

“She’s amazing. She was surprised to find out she’s a Dominant, but you should hear her ordering the lab techs around.” Fitz grinned at the psychologist, who chuckled.

“Are you back with me, Fitz?” he asked. Fitz took a deep breath and realized that yes; he was back in his adult Headspace. He nodded and then promptly burst into tears. Dr. Garner immediately got up and sat down on the couch next to Fitz. “Hey, there,” he said, his voice calm and gentle. “You’re okay. I’m going to put my hand on your shoulder. If you want me to remove it, just tell me, or shake your head if you can’t speak. I want you to take some deep breaths for me, Fitz. Breathe in,” he waited while Fitz did so, “and breathe out.”

Dr. Garner had him keep breathing until he’d calmed down. He began speaking again, still keeping a hand on Fitz’s shoulder, rubbing it slightly. “You did a really good job today, Fitz. I know it was hard for you to get into your Little Headspace, but you did it. It can be confusing switching back to your adult Headspace, especially the first few times.” Dr. Garner got a couple tissues from the box on the coffee table between the couch and his chair and handed them to Fitz.

“Thanks. Sorry.” Fitz said as he wiped his face and blew his nose.

“You’re welcome,” Dr. Garner said. “No need to apologize, Fitz. It’s a perfectly normal reaction. Now, I’m going to recommend that you check out The Playground. It’s the local community center for Caregivers and Littles, and it’s run by two good friends of mine: Phil and Melinda. They have a playgroup for Littles every Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday. The Tuesday playgroup is exclusively for baby and toddler Littles, the Thursday playgroup is for teenage Littles, and the Saturday playgroup is for elementary age Littles.” Dr. Garner got up to get a brochure from his desk, which he handed to Fitz. “I’d also like to schedule an appointment for next week, to check in and see how you’re handling the transition.”

They set up a time for Fitz to come see Dr. Garner again, and then he was headed out the door to catch the bus, brochure clutched tightly in his hand. He absently flipped through it, wanting to wait until he was home before he looked at it more thoroughly.


	3. Playgroup

**Saturday, October 27 th, 2012**

**The Playground**

 

Fitz stepped off the bus outside of the large building known as The Playground. Several other Littles got off with him and ran for the entrance. Fitz took a deep breath, stuck his hands in his pockets so he wouldn’t chew his nails, and slowly walked toward the entrance.

There was an information desk immediately inside the entrance with a kind looking man in his early 50s wearing a red t-shirt seated behind it. He smiled at Fitz as he entered. “Welcome to The Playground,” the man said. “I’m Phil. How can I help you?”

“I’m here for the playgroup,” Fitz said, not quite meeting the man’s eyes. He rubbed the back of his neck, feeling awkward. He glanced down and noticed the familiar metal circular band around the man’s left forearm. That was one of his prosthetic designs.

“Wonderful!” Phil said brightly. “I’ll need you to sign in in the book here, and fill out this form, and if you give me your name, I’ll get you a nametag.”

“I’m Fi—er, I mean, L-Leo,” Fitz said, stuttering nervously. He wrote his name, classification, and arrival time in the sign-in book and then began filling out the short form on a clipboard that asked him his approximate Little age, his address, phone number, and Caregiver/emergency contact information.

“Nice to meet you, Leo.” Phil neatly printed his name in all caps on a nametag and put a circular green sticker on the bottom right corner before handing it to Fitz, who stuck it on his shirt. “The green sticker means that you’re a Little. The Caregivers have a red sticker on their nametags and red t-shirts.

“Now, the playgroup is starting out in our indoor playground,” Phil told him. “There’s free play on the playground for the first 15 minutes and then there’s a group meeting where we go over the rules and the different play choices. Snack is served at 11:15, but otherwise, you’re allowed to move between the different activities whenever you would like. Any questions?” Fitz shook his head, feeling a little bit overwhelmed. “Okay, let me radio for an escort. It’s a big community center and I don’t want you getting lost trying to find the right room.”

Fitz wandered over to the bulletin board to look at the flyers while he waited for the escort. There were a bunch of different classes offered for Littles and Caregivers. _Introduction to Diapers_ he could skip, but _Discovering Your Little Side_ sounded interesting. He ripped a tab from the bottom of the flyer with the meeting date and time and stuck it in his pocket.

“Hey, are you Leo?” Fitz turned around to see a smiling black man in a red t-shirt looking expectantly at him. Fitz nodded. “I’m Trip; nice to meet you, Leo. If you’ll follow me, I’ll show you where the playgroup’s at.”

“It’s your first time, right?” Trip asked as they walked down a long hallway.

“Yeah,” Fitz answered. “I just registered last week. I’m still new to Headspace.”

Trip nodded. “It’s weird, right? It took my Little Girl a couple months to adjust after she registered. Anyway, here’s the indoor playground of The Playground.”

They entered into a huge room. Taking up most of it was a large, three-story play structure. Leo could see at least four different slides, some monkey bars, tunnels, and a bouncy area. On the other side of the room was a large ball pit, and behind the ball pit was another large pit filled with foam blocks. There was a diving board above the foam block pit and Leo watched in amazement as a Little Boy did a flip off of it into the pit.

“You’ll need to take your shoes off,” Trip told him, and pointed to a cubby where he could leave them. “You’re allowed to play in any area in this room right now, but you can’t leave it without telling a Caregiver. They’re wearing red t-shirts and have a red sticker on their nametags. The bathrooms are right over there,” Trip pointed to the bathroom doors across from the cubbies, “and they’re single stall bathrooms for extra privacy. When you hear a whistle, that means all the Littles need to come to this area,” Trip indicated the colorful mat in front of the cubbies, “for a group meeting. We’ll go over rules and give you your activity choices. Any questions?” Leo shook his head. “Good, then go play. Have fun, Leo!”

Leo looked around, not sure where he wanted to play. He chewed on his nails as he made his way to the ball pit. He peered in and was about to hesitantly stick a foot in when a head popped out right next to him, making him jump. The head belonged to a Little Boy with brown hair in a buzz cut and brown eyes. He smiled brightly when he saw Leo.

“Hi! I’m Lance,” the Boy said, and Leo was surprised to hear an English accent.

“You’re English,” he said.

“Yeah, and you’re Scottish. What’s your name?”

“Leo.”

“Wanna play, Leo?”

“Okay.”

“Come on!” Lance ducked back under the brightly colored balls, but Leo didn’t hear or see him moving around. He sat down on the edge of the pit and stuck his legs in, yelping as hands grabbed his ankles and pulled. Lance popped back up and grinned at Leo. “Got you!”

Leo scowled at him. “Don’t do that!”

Lance’s grin faded slightly. “Sorry, mate,” he apologized. A sharp blast from a whistle sounded and Lance groaned. “Aw man, I wanna keep playing!”

“Group meeting!” an Asian woman in a red t-shirt called out. Leo watched as Littles began to gather on the mat in front of the cubbies. There had to be at least 50, if not more. His stomach started to hurt as anxiety began to creep in.

“Lance, Leo,” Trip had come over to the ball pit, “you need to come to the meeting.”

Lance climbed out and Leo stood up. He followed Lance over to area where the Littles were gathering and sat down cross-legged next to him.

“Hello, everyone,” the woman who had called out after the whistle had blown addressed the group. “I’m Melinda May. You can call me Melinda, or you can call me May. I answer to both. Welcome to playgroup! We only have two rules at playgroup. The first rule is be respectful. That means we treat each other kindly, we do not hurt each other, and we treat the equipment and materials with respect. The second rule is have fun! We want everyone to have a good experience here, so if you’re not having fun, please come tell one of the grown-ups so that we can help.

“Now, your activity choices today are: playing in the indoor playground, which is this room, doing a Halloween arts and crafts project in the art room, listening to stories in the library, or playing a game of kickball in the gym. You have two minutes to decide what you want to do and then we’ll split up into choices.”

The volume in the room immediately increased as the multiple Littles began discussing which activity they were going to do. Leo looked at Lance. “I’m gonna play kickball,” Lance said, looking excited. “What are you gonna do, Leo?”

Leo shrugged. “I dunno.” He wouldn’t mind staying in the indoor playground, but he also wanted to stay with a familiar face.

“You should play kickball with me!”

“Okay.”

Two minutes later, Melinda gave a short blast on her whistle and the Littles quieted down. “Has everyone made up their mind?” she asked.

“Yes!” The Littles yelled out.

“Good. Now remember, if you ever want to switch to a different activity, just let a grown-up know and we’ll escort you. Okay, raise your hand if you’re going to do the art project.” About ten Littles raised their hands. “You can go with Steve.” She waited while those Littles went to a muscular blond man who led them out of the playground after they put their shoes back on. “Raise your hand if you want to go to story time.” Some of the Littles raised their hands and were sent to the library with Anne. “Raise your hand if you want to play kickball.” Lance’s hand shot up into the air and Leo’s followed after a second’s hesitation. “Go with Trip to the gym.”

Leo joined the large group of Littles who gathered around Trip. He instructed them all to put their shoes back on and once they were ready, he said, “Okay, guys, follow me.” He led them out of the playground and down the hall, taking them into a large gymnasium. “Everyone line up on the red line so I can split you into teams,” Trip ordered, pointing at the red line. Leo stood next to Lance and watched as Trip began telling each Little they were a 1 or a 2.

“Me and Leo need to be on the same team ‘cause he’s new and he’s my friend,” Lance told Trip when he got to them.

Trip nodded. “1 and 1,” he said, and made the next two both 2s before going back to his 1 and 2 pattern. “All right, 1s kick first, 2s in the field!” The Littles split and Leo followed Lance to line up behind a white base. Trip began explaining the rules of the game. “When it is your turn, the pitcher will roll the ball, you will kick it and run to first base. When the next person kicks the ball, run to second base, and then to third base, and finally home.” Trip pointed to each base as he said it. “The goal is to get all the way around the bases to home without getting out to get a point. You are out if someone in the field catches the ball after you kick it, if you’re tagged with the ball, or if one of the basemen steps onto the base while holding the ball. After three outs, the teams switch sides. We’re playing to fifteen points. Any questions?” Most of the Littles shook their heads or said no. “Let’s play!”

Leo wasn’t the most athletically gifted individual, but it didn’t seem to matter in this group. He was having fun and enjoying himself and his team was winning 12-9. He was on third base about to run for home. One of the Littles on the other team, a tall, muscular Little with dark hair, grabbed the ball after it had been kicked and threw it straight at Leo. It hit him square in the face and Leo immediately burst into tears from the shock and pain.

Trip came running over and pulled Leo into a hug. “Hey, are you okay, Leo?” Gentle hands prodded his face, checking for injury.

Leo took a couple gaspy breaths as he stopped crying and nodded. “I’m okay; I was just surprised.”

They heard a yell and turned just in time to see Lance tackle the Little who had thrown the ball at Leo. “You don’t hurt my friend!” Lance yelled.

Trip swore softly and grabbed his radio as he hurried over to break up the fighting Littles. “Phil, get to the gym _now_ ,” Trip said into the radio. “Lance, Grant, _stop_!” He tried to separate the two Littles, but wasn’t able to on his own. Phil, the man who had greeted Leo when he first arrived, ran into the gym and together, he and Trip were able to separate Lance and Grant.

Leo felt a bit sick when he noticed that Lance had the beginnings of a bruise on his face. Phil took both Littles by the hand and began leading them out of the gym, a displeased look on his face. Leo went over to Trip. “I don’t want to play anymore,” he told the man.

“Okay, what do you want to do?” Trip asked. Leo shrugged and started chewing on his thumbnail. “Phil!” Trip called out and the man stopped and turned around. “Can Leo come with you until he figures out where he wants to go next?”

“Sure,” Phil said. “Come on, Leo.” Leo went over and followed the man out of the room. “We have to stop by the office because these boys need a timeout, but then we can find something fun for you to do. How does that sound, Leo?”

“Fine,” Leo said.

“I don’t need a timeout!” Grant whined, trying to tug his hand out of Phil’s.

“You know the rules, Grant,” Phil said firmly. “Any physical fighting is an automatic timeout until your Caregiver can come get you, and since Mommy is busy with playgroup, you’ll be in timeout until I finish helping with snack.” Grant started to cry, but Phil ignored him.

The office was just off the lobby. There was a woman working on the computer and Phil asked her to call Lance’s Caregiver while he put both Littles in opposite corners of the room. “Leo, do you know what activity you want to join yet?” Phil asked him as they left the office. Leo shook his head. He was feeling overwhelmed by the whole experience. “Would you like to help me get the snack ready?”

“Yeah,” Leo said.

Phil led him to a kitchen and supervised as Leo washed his hands, reminding him to scrub all the germs off. He had Leo put plastic gloves on too before putting him to work peeling tangerines. Phil began chopping up celery and they worked in a comfortable silence.

Leo couldn’t help but watch Phil’s prosthetic, pleased to see on of his own designs working so well. If Leo didn’t know any better, he’d swear the arm was real and the metal band was just an interesting fashion accessory.

Phil caught him looking and smiled. “It’s a prosthetic,” the man explained. “I lost my arm in an accident, so I got this one to replace it. It looks real, doesn’t it?”

“It should,” Leo said. “I made it.”

“You what?”

“I’m an engineer at SHIELD Prosthetics. I helped design that model.”

Phil didn’t respond and Leo glanced up to see the man staring at him in shock. “Wow,” he said finally. “Thank you, Leo. Truly, thank you. Your work has changed my life.”

Leo shrugged. “I like helping people.” He finished peeling the last tangerine and held it out to Phil. “Now what?”

“Um, stick these celery pieces in the top. Like this,” Phil demonstrated for him, “and then put a couple of the leaves in. We’re making tangerine pumpkins.”

“Do you have a Caregiver, Leo?” Phil asked as they worked.

“No,” Leo answered. “I just registered last week.”

“Are you living on your own, or in a group home?”

“I live with my best friend, Jemma. She’s a Dominant. We work together at SHIELD. She’s the one who made your arm so life-like.”

“Well please pass along my thanks to her as well.”

The cafeteria, where the Littles gathered to eat snack, was right off of the kitchen. Phil had Leo carry in the tray of tangerine oranges and put one on each of the paper plates around the tables. Phil also had what he called banana ghosts that he’d made earlier, which were frozen bananas dipped in yogurt with chocolate chips for eyes and mouth. Leo took his plastic gloves off and threw them away before taking a seat at one of the tables. Phil opened the cafeteria doors and Littles began streaming in, finding seats. A Little with white-blond hair whom Leo recognized from the kickball game sat down across from him.

“Are you okay?” the Little asked, and Leo detected a hint of an accent, though he couldn’t place exactly what it was. “It looked like it hurt, getting hit with the ball.”

“Only a little,” Leo said. “It was more surprising than painful.”

“Good,” the Little said. “I am glad you are okay. My name is Pietro.”

“Leo.”

“You are not American, Leo,” Pietro commented as Caregivers came around passing out juice boxes.

Leo shook his head as he opened the straw and stuck it into the juice box. “I’m from Scotland,” he explained. “I came here for school, then I got a job. Where are you from?”

“Sokovia. Me and my sister came to make a better life. We were classified, and found our Mama and Papa, and life is even better than we thought.”

“What’s it like, having a Caregiver?” Leo asked, fidgeting with the straw wrapper.

“It’s nice,” Pietro said. “I like not having to worry about taking care of anything. Mama and Papa take care of me. I get to play. They teach me things. We live on a farm, so I get to help with the animals and the garden. You should come visit. We could play.”

“Okay,” Leo said.

Pietro waved over one of the caregivers, a blond man with kind eyes. “Papa, this is Leo, my new friend. We want to have a playdate.”

“Hi, Leo,” the man said. “I’m Clint. Do you have a Caregiver I can arrange a playdate with?” Leo shook his head. “Okay, well I’ll write down our phone number for you, and we’ll set something up, okay?”

“Okay,” Leo said.

Clint went to find a piece of paper and a pen. He was back just as the Boys were finishing up snack and he handed Leo a piece of paper with his and Pietro’s names, their phone number, and their address. “Give us a call anytime,” Clint told him. “My wife, Laura, stays at home with Pietro and his sister, so there’s usually someone to answer the phone.”

“Thank you,” Leo said, taking the paper and folding it up to stick in his pocket. He went to throw his trash away and then back to the table. “I think I’m ready to go home,” he told them.

“No, stay,” Pietro begged. “After snack we get to play on the playground until our Caregivers come get us.”

“You’re allowed to go home if you want to, Leo,” Clint told him, placing a hand on Pietro’s shoulder as the boy opened his mouth to protest again. “You’re taking the bus?” Leo nodded. “I’ll walk you out. Come on.”

“Bye, Pietro,” Leo said. “I’ll see you next time?”

“Definitely,” Pietro said. “Call so you can come play with me at the farm.”

“Okay.”

Leo followed Clint back to the lobby and put his leaving time in the sign-in book. Phil came out of the office. “Oh, you’re leaving Leo?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Leo answered.

“Lance asked me to give this to you and tell you he was sorry he didn’t get to say goodbye,” Phil said, pulling a piece of paper out of his pocket and handing it to Leo. Leo looked and saw that it had Lance’s name and phone number written on it. “Did you have a good time?”

“It was fun,” Leo told him. “I liked helping with snack.”

“Well you’re a very good helper,” Phil praised, and Leo blushed slightly. “We’re having a Halloween party on Wednesday if you’d like to come to that,” Phil told him, grabbing a flyer from the information desk and handing it over. “And of course there’s always playgroup on Saturdays.”

“Thanks,” Leo said.

“Bye, Leo,” Clint told him. “Give us a call. Pietro would love to play with you.”

“I will.”

“Have a good day, Leo,” Phil said as Leo started to walk to the door.

~*~*~*~

“How was it?” Jemma asked as soon as he got in the door. “Did you have fun? Did you make any friends? What did you do?”

Fitz held up a hand, silently asking her to stop her barrage of questions. “It was fun,” he told her. “I met a couple people, played kickball, had a snack. They’re having a Halloween party next Wednesday. I think I might go.”

“Will you dress up?” Jemma asked. “You should go as a monkey! You’d be adorable!”

“ _Jemma_!” he whined, his face turning red. “I’m not adorable!”

“You are though,” Jemma contradicted, a mischievous grin on her face.

Fitz rolled his eyes. “I’m gonna go lie down.”

“Okay.” Jemma went back to looking at her computer screen and Fitz headed to his bedroom.

A couple hours later, Fitz was woken up by his phone ringing. He looked at it, but didn’t recognize the number. “Hello?”

“Hey, it’s Lance, from playgroup. This is Leo, right? I found your number online. Did you know you’re some kind of fancy doctor? That’s so cool!”

“Yes, this is Leo,” he said, “and I’m an engineer with a Ph.D.”

“Wow! I don’t have anything past A-levels. Anyway, how’s your face?”

“I’m okay. The ball didn’t hurt me. Thanks for sticking up for me, though.”

“No problem,” Lance said. “That’s what friends are for. So, do you wanna come over for lunch tomorrow? You can meet my Mum and prove that I didn’t just get into a fight for the sake of fighting.”

“Okay,” Fitz said.

“Yay! Is this your mobile number?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, I’ll just text you our address. Does 12:30 work?”

“Yeah.”

“Great, we’ll see you tomorrow! Bye, Leo.”

“Bye, Lance.”

Fitz hung up and stared at his ceiling, a smile on his face. He had a new friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Thanks for any kudos/comments. My Tumblr is unlessimwrongwhichyouknowimnot.tumblr.com


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